


Glee Actually

by Alerion15



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alerion15/pseuds/Alerion15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Glee Actually episode, "You're stuck in this chair and all you want to do is scream and cry and give up, but you have these two people here supporting you helping you to get better and you just happen to be in love one of them"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glee Actually

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to use this AU because there’s no way not one person would have not helped Quinn (in my opinion), and apparently her mom was of no help so there went that argument… so here I am to Faberry it up. Also I made it so the crash happened toward the middle of junior year instead of senior year, also no baby-gate.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Glee and anyone who says differently is a liar

You wake up and it’s dark.  
It’s dark, you’re alone, and you can’t feel your legs. You start to hyperventilate from the sudden rush of memories.  
Your car. Your phone. A Message. The truck. A sudden burst of extreme pain. And then…  
Nothing

After that everything is a blur, but you don’t have a lot of time to dwell on it because doctors and nurses are rushing in to check on you. Apparently a machine started beeping alerting them to the fact you woke up. They start doing a bunch of things to you, checking your blood pressure, heart rate, and all those other important doctor procedures. But you’re not even there your mind is all over the place searching for answers to your thousands of questions;

‘How long was I out?’  
‘Is anyone missing me?’  
‘Why can I only remember bits and pieces of the past couple of days?’  
‘What’s wrong with me?’  
‘Ugh my chest is on fire’  
‘Why can’t I feel my damn legs?’

That last thought hangs in the forefront of your mind, you try to voice your questions but your voice comes out cracked and raspy. A nurse grabs a glass of water and helps you sit up, which you realize hurts like hell to do, so you can drink. The cool liquid soothes the burning sensation in your throat and chest slightly.

While the nurse puts the glass on the table again you take a moment to breathe, and your chest contacts painfully sending you into a coughing fit. The nurse makes you take another sip of water and tells you to breathe more slowly, you and try to clear your throat before speaking again.

“W-what’s wrong with me” Your voice is low and still hoarse and crackly but the doctors understand you anyway. You see how the doctors face morphs from relief at your being awake to seriousness, obviously the news he was about to give you was unpleasant.

“It’s nice to see you awake, I’m Dr. Alex Kane and I’ll be handling your recovery. As for what happened, you were in a car crash, a truck rammed right into your side of the car. Do you remember any of this?” he asks, his confession sparks some memory’s into your brain and you can faintly remember driving somewhere, but the destination escapes you.

“Bits and pieces, it’s all kinda fuzzy though, and I can’t remember much of anything before the crash” the doctor nods and writes down notes as you talk.

“Do you know what todays date is?” you shake your head no  
“Do you know what your name is?”  
“Lucy Quinn Fabray” you answer, he nods  
“Do you know who your parents are?”  
“Russell and Judy Fabray?” you answer hesitantly, he nods again and jots down some notes.

It silent for a while and you can feel the questions on the tip of your tongue. ‘How serious are my injuries? Is this memory loss permanent? Are my legs even still attached to my body?’ The doctor sees the conflict in your eyes and gives you a sympathetic smile, “I know what you’re going to ask so I’m just going to come out and say it. When you were t-boned by a truck you received damage to your spinal cord and because of the force of the impact and the air bags two of your ribs cracked. You were in a coma for about four days, and while you were out we did some surgery, one of your ribs punctured a lung which caused it to collapse so we inserted a device called the underwater seal drain to reflate the lung. Then later we had to do more surgery on your back to relieve some pressure on the lumbar and sacral segments of your spine. Basically this means that you may have difficulty breathing for a while, and might have temporary paralysis in your legs but we can only tell how bad it is when pain relievers wear off. As for your memory, it’s only immediate memory I presume, and it’s very possible that it might not come back, but you are a very lucky girl Ms. Fabray.” You nod dumbly absorbing everything you just learned.

Paralyzed  
You could be paralyzed  
You could be fucking paralyzed, no more use of your legs, confined to a wheelchair forever.  
Flashes of a memory spark in your mind, like photos weaving to together to tell a story, leaving school, talking on your phone, hanging up, getting in the car, a tractor in front of her getting a text, and then another, you see yourself reach over to the console picking up your phone, the words ON MY WAY flash through your mind and then… nothing.

Why did you have to pick up your phone? You should have left it alone until you got home or wherever you were going. But now because of your idiocy you could lose function of your legs forever. Way to go Quinn, fucking brilliant. You can feel the stinging of tears in your eyes but you swallow them back.

“We tried to contact your parents but your father didn’t pick up-” You feel your stomach twist a little, the feeling of rejection settles in, you try to ignore it but it’s still there looming in your mind. It should be no surprise; ever since you came out to your parents’ sophomore year your father has wanted nothing to do with you. His own daughter who in his words ‘is living in sin’, you shouldn’t even care about that abusive asshole but you still feel that yearning to be daddy’s little girl again. “And your mother had to work and said she would come in as soon as possible, but she hasn’t come yet.” Yet again no surprise, if your mom isn’t at work she’s usually drinking her life away silently blaming you for ruining her marriage. She doesn’t have to say anything; you could feel the distaste emanating from her. Sometimes when she’s drunk and you help her to her room she’d say you things like, ‘why couldn’t you be good girl Quinnie?’ ‘If only you’d get over this phase’, and a sense of failure would bubble up inside of you, but you’d always squash it down. Then again it could be worse, your father had put you out on the street, but eventually your mom spoke up against it (after four months of living out of your car and no friends to turn to), which led to a lot of fighting and the serving of divorce papers from Russell. The doctor gives you a pitying glance but you just give him a blank look. You don’t need his pity, you know how you're parents are and you can deal with it. You have been dealing with it.

“In a couple of hours when the meds wear off a little we’ll come back and see the extent of your injury. You give him a curt nod as he leaves the room. And suddenly everything feels more real, it starts to sink in that you’re alone, in a hospital, and your legs might not work ever again. And you want to cry, so you do, you cry until you can’t cry anymore and let the exhaustion you were feeling take you into a dreamless sleep.  
******************  
The next time you wake up you notice two things. One, you see your doctor (what was his name again… Pain? Zayne? Lane? Whatever it doesn’t matter anyway) smiling down at you (a little too brightly for your tastes). And two, everything suddenly hurts. You wince as you try to shift yourself a little. ‘Guess my pain meds wore off’, you think.

“Ahh Quinn, how are you feeling?”

“My body feels stiff, my chest burns every time I inhale, and everything hurts” You reply evenly, the doctor only nods and jots something down, always writing what could he possibly be writing, then he turns to look at you. “We’re going to do some tests to see how serious your injuries are okay?” You wordlessly nod too caught up in your head, you space out throughout all the tests, following the doctors instructions robotically. He lifts you bed slightly so you’re more in a sitting position, but not too much because of the tube in your chest. And soon enough he moved back and wrote on his pad once more, he glances up from the paper and catches your eye, “Okay Miss. Fabray I’m going to go and check some of your x-rays so I can give you a full prognosis, and while I’m gone you have a visitor I’m sure you’ll be happy to see.” You perk up a little, a visitor? Who could possibly here to see you? The doctor gives another one of his too bright smiles and heads to the door.

Your eyes narrow at who you see. Your mother slowly makes her way into the room and gives your doctor a stiff small smile and nod before approaching your bed. You both are locked in a staring match, fierce hazel vs. dulled steely grey. They were so focused on each other they didn’t notice Dr. Kane slip out of the room. Your mother’s eyes scan your body taking in the injuries she can see, which isn’t much. You have a couple of scratches and bruises but all your real damage is internal. A frown makes its way onto her face. “Oh Quinnie-” she starts and you clench your fists against the sheets and anger burn through your veins, “Don’t- just don’t” you grit out from between clenched teeth. You see her falter for a second but then she just disregards your words and continues, “The doctors told me you were in an accident and filled me in on all the specifics on your injuries, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back in town sooner but I-”

“Stop! Just stop it mom, don’t come in here and act like you care.” You practically yell you see your mothers eyes harden, “Lucy Quinn Fabray don’t use that tone with me, I’m your mother of course I care”

“Oh so now you’re my mom”

“What do you mean I’ve always been your mom” You shake your head while also fighting back the tears that are stinging your eyes. “No you’ve been a mother not a mom. A mom is supposed to protect their kids, they’re supposed to accept them for who they are, not let their husband smack them around because they don’t follow what he wants or call a part of who they are a ‘phase’. A mom is supposed to hug their child and tell them it’ll be okay when they cry; you know when the last time we hugged was mom?” You see the tears falling down her cheeks, and your chest is screaming at you, but you don’t care you’ve been hurting for years you can take a little more pain you have your mom in front of you, and she’s going to finally listen to you. “My 13th birthday party, right after you gave me my cross, and do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep after dad kicked me out, or every time I came home from school and you would be drunk and constantly tell me how much of a disappointment I am, and how much you regret having me. A mom doesn’t let their daughter feel like shit, a mom doesn’t make their daughter feel like running away, a mom doesn’t make home feel like a suffocating you. You may be my mother but you’re not my mom.” You finally finish and if feels like a weight had been lifted off your chest. Your mother is still crying but you can see anger starting to cloud her eyes turning them from a steely grey to pale green. 

“I don’t know where we went wrong, we raised you just like your sister, how could she turn out fine and you turn into- this,” she gestures wildly at you “Me and your father have only wanted the best for you, we have tried everything, and he didn’t beat you, you got the same punishment that Francine got, but you always were always just so difficult. And it’s bad enough that you were always angering him, but then you come and tell us that you’re- you’re- one of them and make your father leave. Maybe you’re the problem maybe you’re just a bad problem, all I’ve been is a good mother, the best clothes, the best toys, the best birthdays, dance classes, gymnastics, anything you ever wanted and you say I never cared.” Her eyes harden and they feel like they’re burning a hole through you, “You’re just ungrateful and you know what I’m tired of trying to help you to turn you back into the little girl you once were.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore mom, I needed you, I needed you to protect me, to reassure me, and you didn’t. And all those things weren’t for me; they were for you guys, so you wouldn’t tarnish the Fabray image. So don’t lie to yourself, just admit it, you wish I was never born don’t you” You’re both staring again and it you who breaks the contact because your chest finally has had enough from all the yelling and you break out into another coughing fit, your mom’s eyes widen in panic and she immediately rings for a nurse but the cough eventually passes. You finally release your death grip on the sheets and flex your finger to get rid of the stiffness and the blood flowing through you pale knuckles. And even though you turned your head defiantly to the side you couldn’t help those few tears that escaped your eyes and the feeling of dread deep in your stomach.

A few moments later later Dr. Kane and a nurse returned to your room “Are you okay Ms. Fabray, what happened?”

“It’s just my chest; I got a little too excited and then started coughing but I’m fine now.” Despite your reassurances Dr. Kane comes to check the tube in your chest, and tells you to do some breathing exercises while the nurse changes out your IV drip. When he’s finally satisfied with what he hears he moves to stand in front of your bed.

“Now that your mother is here we can discuss your injuries and your recovery.” A nod from both you and your mom prompts him to continue, if he notices the palpable tension between the two of you he doesn’t let on. “Like I explained before the worst of your injuries were a collapsed lung and damage to your spinal cord. As far as your lung is concerned another week or so with the seal drain and you lung should be inflated and we’ll be able to remove the drain, you may have some difficulty breathing for a while but otherwise you’ll be fine, and your ribs are all taped up and on their way to healing and will take anywhere from 4-8 weeks to heal, you’ll be able to move around during this time but we recommend taking it easy because you will be sore. As for your legs, you said before you couldn’t feel anything, not even tingling, and while that’s not necessarily good, that doesn’t mean you should give up hope. As soon as the seal drain is removed we’ll start you on a physical therapy schedule and if within a month of therapy you can at least start feeling the tingles in your legs then I would say you would be well on your way to making a recovery.” You can help the swell of hope that blooms inside you but you keep your features schooled.

“When will she be able to come home and what about school?” Your mother asks.

“She can return home the day after the seal drain is removed, we’re keeping her an extra day to make sure she’s doesn’t contract any infection. As far school she can return after her first month of PT. I recommend installing a ramp at your house and making arrangements for her to sleep on the ground floor of your house, and telling the school to have a ramp one installed if they don’t have one already.” The thought of school filled Quinn with dread; she was already the target of abuse after coming out and quitting the cheerios, she’s pretty sure she would have gone insane if it wasn’t for Kurt.

Kurt Hummel the only other openly out kid at their school, he came out in freshman year and had already suffered a year of torment and learned how to not let it get to him, and after her fall from grace last year and after she apologized for anything she might have ever done to him they bonded and he was really her only friend. But she’s sure as soon as she shows up in a- a- wheelchair that a whole new slew of insults and pranks would head her way and there’s no way he’d want to be around someone who’ll will make him more of a target than he already is. She felt her small flame of happiness get stomped out completely as she stared down at her useless legs.

After the doctor exchange a few words, he and the nurse make their leave sending you and your mother into another tense awkward silence. “Quinine…” she tries but you just shake your head. “No mom it’s okay mom just drop it, if we don’t talk about it then it didn’t happen right. Isn’t that the ‘Fabray Way’?” You think you see your mother nod her head in agreement, but you’re not sure. You sit in the tense silence for another 20 minutes before your mother scurries out without a word or second glance at you. As soon as the door closes you take a huge breath and let the gravity of your situation take over. You think about your accident, and how you should be happy to be alive. You think about your mother and how you’ll probably never be able to repair your relationship no matter how much you want to. You think about your cell phone, and who could have been possibly texting you, and how they were important enough for you to pick up when you were driving. You think about school and how things will get inevitably worse for you. You think about Kurt, and how you hope he doesn’t abandon you when things do get worse and he’ll suffer from association. You think about all these things and groan as you feel a headache coming on, you at the wall in front of you and notice it’s already 7:30 at night and decide you might as well sleep, not that there’s anything else you could possibly do.

******************  
It’s already noon and all you’ve done today is groan in pain, eat disgusting hospital food and have a nurse bathe you, and you felt too helpless to even be embarrassed, you can’t even clean yourself without someone’s help, pathetic. And now you’re watching Adventure Time, and no matter what anybody else says you like this show, it makes you smile. Just as the gang started to jam to Marceline’s song and the door began to glow there was a knock on her own door. Letting out a frustrated sigh at being interrupted at your favorite part you yell ‘come in’ anyway. And there, once again all smiles, was Dr. Kane.  
“Good afternoon Quinn, how are we doing today?”  
“Better than yesterday” you mutter  
“Glad to hear it, I came to let you know you have some visitors for you” You tense, the last time he said there was a visitor you mom walked through the door and you had a falling out match, but that was two days ago and unsurprisingly she hadn’t come back yet, whatever you don’t need her. But your doctor said visitors, as in more than one, what if she came back and brought your father so they both could rant about how much of a disappointment she was. A shiver goes through you at the thought of both of both of their cold judging eyes on you, berating you dragging the family name through the mud, even with that unpleasant thought you tell him to send them in. The next thing you hear a high pitched ‘oh my god’ and your vision becomes filled with your best friend. You can’t the confusion that shows on your face because you weren’t expecting to see him.

“Kurt what are you doing here I thought you were out of town?”  
“I was but then Rachel called me, at first she was worried because you never showed up at her house, and then called again sounding frantic and told me she heard about your accident on the news, and I couldn’t get dad to cut our vacation short, but we just got back today and I had to see you. You’re my best friend and I could have lost you, then what would I do when school starts again.” Your heart warms at his declaration and you feel happy that you have him at your friend.

“Well as you can see I’m fine for the most part, so you don’t need to worry” but you still see that his brow is furrowed, and concern is still swirling in his eyes, “How are you really, you can’t be fine if your still in the hospital a week after your accident” You feel your heart sink at what you’re about to tell him, you hate others worrying about you. One of the things you pride yourself on being is strong willed and independent , but I guess having friends means having to rely on them once in a while, even that’s really hard for you to do. “Kurt-” you start and you can already feel a lump forming in your throat, “I had two broken ribs, and one punctured my lung.” You ignore his gasp and keep your eyes trained on your blanket, “this tube in my chest is reflating it and it’ll be okay. But they said that- that-” You drag your eyes up to look into his eyes and you see the curiosity swirling in his eyes and you power on, “Kurt, I can’t feel my legs, and they say I might never walk again.” You say a blandly as possible even though there was a slight hitch in your speech. The sound of a strangled cry makes its way to your ears, but you’re looking right at Kurt and even though you see tears in his eyes he didn’t make that sound, and then you finally realize there is another person in your room, you look past Kurt and there standing in the background clad in a plaid skirt and animal sweater, hand covering her mouth, tears caught under glasses with some escaping down her cheeks was Rachel Berry.

“Rachel what are you doing here?” She just shakes her head at you and then runs out the room leaving you in a wake of confusion, why was she here, you’re not really friends but you hang out sometimes because of Kurt, it’s not like you don’t like her or anything you actually wish you were closer to her, even though you harassed her the most during your time on the cheerios. You never hated her; you only envied her and her fathers for having such a loving and supportive family when yours was all fake smiles and cold glares. But she also forgave her almost instantly claiming, ‘while it is not alright to bully others, and I don’t condone your use of me as a scapegoat for your home situation, I can also understand how growing up in an oppressive home may influence you to exhibit non-favorable qualities to those who have a life you wish you had, and seeing as you now are in the same boat as me I find it unnecessary to hold any grudges against your past transgressions and wish to move forward with our lives, so to answer your question yes I forgive you Quinn.’ And she said that all in one breath, your pretty sure there were no pauses in that speech. Clearly seeing the confusion on your face Kurt speaks up, “She blames herself you know.”

“Why, she’s not the one who hit me”

“Yeah, I know but do you know what they said on the news?” You shake your head no, “They said you ran a stop sign and when they found you, you had your phone clutched in your hand and that it was apparent that you were texting.”

“So” you say still not understanding

“You were texting Rachel” and then it dawned on you. Rachel. You were texting Rachel. You were on your way to Rachel’s house. You’re not really sure what you feel, you thought if you found out who you were texting, you’d feel anger towards them, but all you feel is well sad and guilty. It really isn’t her fault, it’s yours, and now she’s beating herself up for something that you did.

“Kurt” you say breaking the silence that came over you two, “Could you maybe get Rachel to come back, unless you think she left already.”

“Well considering I’m her ride I think it’s a pretty safe bet that she’s still here,” He starts walking to the door but he pauses hand hovering over the knob as he speaks again, “Rachel’s just really dramatic, and she’s just overreacting right now, but she really does feel bad about what happened. She called me every day to ask when I was coming back, and she said she even went over to your house yesterday to talk to your mom but she said that your mom just looked at her and closed the door, and now she just blames herself, and even though you guys don’t hang out much she really cares about you.” And with that he walks out the room.


End file.
